


Mercy Triumphs Over Judgment

by ezkatz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Historical Inaccuracy, Priests, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 00:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezkatz/pseuds/ezkatz
Summary: Something slightly different and explicitly Catholic from a non-Catholic.





	1. Grace

Moira O'Deorain's interest in the Church was motivated by sheer practicality, not any true religious fervour. Still, she appreciated the structure and security it afforded her, and Moira usually didn't mind disguising herself as a man. She threw herself into her work; her colleagues and congregation were excited by her dedication, if a bit wary of her more radical ideas. The thrill of success was intoxicating. 

Moira wondered why the young blond woman present at so many baptisms never attended mass. A shame, given how angelic she looked bathed in morning light; her hair was a brilliant pale blond and her blue eyes, though wide, were quick and calculating. A source of divine inspiration, someone more hopelessly sentimental might say. Moira always noticed her immediately, no matter the crowd; she rarely got to stare for long before the young woman locked eyes with a look that was too intense and induced a familiar panic. Moira refused to make the same mistake twice.

Against her better judgment, she found herself walking up to the woman after another baptism and placing a hand on her shoulder.   
"Large family you have, Miss...?"   
"Ziegler. Angela. Are you new? Your accent is strange" the woman gave her a tight smile.  
"Father Moran. I've just moved from Ireland" Moira removed her hand "Miss Angela I do hope you'll consider making the time to see me this Sunday"   
"You shouldn't make such bold assumptions, Father"  
"Are you not Catholic?" Moira stared at Angela's hands for a moment, watching her squeeze and wring and fiddle with her fingers, before meeting her gaze again and smiling.   
"Forgive me--I'd best be going" Angela held up her right hand and turned to leave, both a goodbye and a command to leave her be.   
There was something off about her, Moira thought. Such women back home were rarely so well-liked and frequently accused of dabbling in dark magics; perhaps this Angela was similarly inclined. She returned to her quarters, her head heavy with thoughts of life and death, and the young woman's pink lips.


	2. Solitude

Angela Ziegler had never once in her 25 years left her hometown of Zurich, reasoning that she needed to keep close tabs on her community--for their benefit and her own. She was a brilliant midwife and was generally well-liked; there wasn't a family who didn't use her services, and she seemed to be far more successful than even the most respected learned doctors in town.  
Some accused her of witchcraft-- understandable, given her knowledge and successful application of herbs and tinctures--but they didn't know the half of it. Angela was dangerously close to breaking human and natural law with her experiments on the dying. She refused to dabble in the domain of true necromancers, yet the thought of bringing someone back from the supposed finality of death stirred something in her. 

Angela wasn't fond of these baptisms. She appreciated the sentiment and didn't think it prudent to turn down the invitations, but she never felt comfortable in the heavy air of the church--especially not with the new priest staring her down. The father's face was gaunt and cold, and his impressive height made him all the more imposing. But there was something off about him; his motions were too fluid, his mismatched eyes too intense. Angela felt small under his close observation.   
His hand was cold on her shoulder. Up close she could see the light peach fuzz on his face, unbefitting a man of his age.   
Their conversation left Angela out of sorts. She asked around about Father Moran. Many found him brilliant, if unsettling. Some whispered rumors of his strange research and of his attempts to play God. There was more to him than she thought-- and perhaps Angela could use it to her advantage.


End file.
